Aron
by Practical Cat
Summary: This is about a young man named Aron. He has two mentally 'damaged' siblings and a mother who seems bent on ruining all lives around her. As a result, his youngest brother is in an unstable foster family. Please Read, Review. First time to post, be nice!
1. Chapter 1

"Aron? It's Becky. Mom. Call me back as soon as you get this message. You have my number."

Aron flipped to the next message.

"Aron, call me right now. We need to talk!"

Flip.

"You have got to stop ignoring me, young man. You call me back right now!"

Flip.

"Aron!! Just answer the phone!"

A few moments later, Aron heard a long tone signifying that the messages were deleted. He tossed the phone into the passenger seat of his battered 1990 Lumina and focused his attention on the road ahead. He had no intention of calling the woman back, not after what she had done to him. She had no explanation that could quiet his rage and ultimately protect herself from his anger.

Aron pulled into the parking lot of the Casa de la paz, the House of Peace.

The wide glass door opened automatically before him and as he entered the cool building, he felt his anger wash out of him, going to lurk in the car.

"Ehron!" Roger Koma, the manager greeted him.

"Roger." Aron inclined his head.

"Yo find Rosh or Daun furst?"

"Rojsh."

Roger grinned for no apparent reason and waved his arm in a grand gesture to let Aron pass. Aron walked past with a forced smile that fell as he continued down the hall to his sister's room.

He was the middle child of seven, Rojsh being the only female. His brother Dahnyil also resided in Casa de la paz and his brother Brasht worked there. His oldest brother Jak had been dead for six years; he had been a policeman and was killed while on duty. The brother closest to him in age, Terrance, had been killed in a freak accident involving a train. His brother Cozmin, younger by sixteen years, had recently been taken from his mother, Becky, to enter the foster care system. Aron had once worked out plans to care for the boy, but they had all been dashed when Becky had withdrawn all the money from Aron's bank accounts and used it to pay various persons to attempt to kidnap Cozmin and bring him home to her. All this circulated, as it always did, through his mind back to front, back to front. When its freakish cycle reached the back of his mind, he made a conscious effort to keep it there, knocking gently on Rojsh's door.

"'Ello Guv-nuh." came a bright voice. Aron pushed open the pseudo-wood door to reveal a light-skinned, slightly overweight woman of about thirty sitting cross-legged in a patterned hospital issue robe on a cot fashioned to look like a standard bed. She had a deck of cards with stark-white backs and appeared to be playing some kind of game, although Aron knew she really wasn't.

"It's Aron."

She looked at him from the corner of her eyes, never turning her head. "Aye, that it is."

"Just thought I'd come visit."

"Didja now." she sounded amused.

"Yeah, I did. How are you?"

"How'm I what?"

"Doing. How are you doing?"

"How'm I doin' what?"

"How are you feeling?"

"With m'fingers, I'll bet. They've got these funny nerve things under m'skin."

Aron always went through this routine with Rojsh; she needed routine and humor; no matter how many times she heard the same joke, she would never cease to smile or acknowledge it in some way. For this reason, and this reason alone, Aron laughed. "Would you like to see Dahn?"

"Dahnyil? But the dear boy was in here a mere eighteen minutes and seventeen seconds ago!" Rojsh had some kind of internal stopwatch; she was always keeping track of things. She could not, however, read the time of day from the face of a clock or from a digital watch, as number meant nothing to her. Still, Aron knew Rojsh was lying to him, whether intentionally or not, because Dahnyil didn't leave his room.

"Really." he knew she wouldn't comprehend his sarcasm. "Do you have anything you would like to do?"

"Watch them leaves fah jus outside that window over yonder." She was constantly changing her accent and phrasing as though she were taking a virtual tour of the world. Sometimes she seemed to spend a very long time in one place, and sometimes she spoke only a few words with the timbre of choice.

"Okay." Aron knew that it was not the season for falling leaves, and he reasoned Rojsh did, too, but because the thought of falling leaves had occurred to her and she had no real responsibilities, she was free to watch the trees in hope of seeing one. Occasionally, Aron envied her. Becky never did to her any of the numerous unforgivable things she did to him. She suddenly swept up off her bed and came over to him, bending low as if to tell him a secret. Her breath tickled his ear uncomfortably, but he knew better than to shy away.

"I'm missing Jak something terrible." Her words threw his thoughts from the back of his mind to the front, as if they were rebelling for being kept from their usual schedule of causing him worry and anguish.

"Yeah, I miss Jak, too."

"2191 days and nineteen minutes since they called here about him."

"Hunh." He knew she was right and wondered how many things she was counting in her head.

"What's that laddie? You're makin' no kinds of sense."

"Nevermind." It was indeed, the anniversary of Jak's death. He had never been very close to that particular brother, but the loss stung him nonetheless.

"Going to work later?"

"Work? Oh, yeah. I got a new job. I work for the county, repairing roads, stuff like that."

"That's not the job you wanted."

"No."

"Aww."

"I had to take the job when it came up." he was still trying to convince himself.

"Oh, you were so smart, Aron." Brasht's quiet voice from the hallway startled him, but he managed to cover himself.

"Don't." he said miserably.

"You were so smart." Brasht was pleading quietly with him.

"It doesn't matter how smart you are, if you can't pay for college, you're sunk." he didn't sound at all bitter, ashamed maybe, as though the blame for that particular flaw in the American system rested solely on his shoulders.

"You had scholarships. You could've done great things."

"I like working outside." he avoided Brasht's eyes with skill, as he had done many times before.

"Why'd you blow it, Aron?" Brasht wasn't accusing or intimidating, and his question seemed almost to be rhetorical.

"I don't want to talk about it." Aron sounded cool and impassive, but not cold or angry.

"I know. You never do."

"No point in living in the past."

"I know." he paused and repeated the two words with more conviction. "I know." Brasht pulled the sheets off the bed Rojsh had vacated and stuffed them unceremoniously into a canister on his cart. "Later."

"He's a strange lad." Rojsh said, not allowing a moment's silence.

Aron considered this. "Not really." He stood up. "I'm going to see Dahn, are you coming or not?"

"Dahnyil? But the dear boy was in here a mere twenty-three minutes and fifty-two seconds ago!" She was still counting her lie.

"Goodbye, Rojsh." He kissed her forehead and left the room, leaving the door open just a crack behind him. A sigh escaped his lips and he made his way further down the hallway. He was an actor, always an actor. His whole life was acting, really. Put on this face for this person, that one for that person, use this language around her but not around him. He wasn't sure when he was wearing a mask and when he was being himself; it all felt so unnatural. Lost in his thoughts, he almost walked past Dahn's room. Upon entering, he found Brasht sitting on the radiator, talking quietly to Dahn. Dahn's eyes sparkled as they rarely did and he looked excited but peaceful. That was Brasht's way. Even when Aron was furious with him, Brasht's calm, quiet, peace made him feel as though his fury, too, was all an act, and as such, he could never hold a grudge against his brother.

"Hey."

"Look, it's Aron." Dahn didn't look, but Aron smiled slightly anyway.

"I've gotta...be somewhere. Just thought'd I say hello. So...hello." To Dahn, the fact that Aron was his biological sibling meant nothing.

"Do you want to talk to Aron? Please, Dahn?" Dahn studiously ignored Aron, just as he usually ignored everyone, with the exception of Brasht. He would always want to see Brasht, even try to talk to him. Brasht was the only person who had ever persuaded Dahn to leave his room. Aron was not jealous of Brasht, just grateful that Dahn had someone.

"Well, I'll see you two later." Brasht used to be embarrassed that Dahn would pay him alone any attention, but that was all in the past. Now, he just waved and smiled with his eyes, sending out gentle waves of serenity that could never make anyone seasick.

Brasht's peace managed to hold off the anger waiting in his car for only a short while. He missed Jak and Terrance. He missed the Dahn and the Rojsh he used to know. He missed seeing Cozmin. Most of all, he missed Ru, his father. His internal fight with his anger toward Becky (he always called her Becky, never Mom or Mother) coupled with his lasting grief was tearing him apart. The tears that leaked from his eyes and stained his tattered blue jeans were the remainder of Brasht's waves of calm leaking out.

He was losing control, not for the first time. He wanted to drive and never stop, he wanted to run until his heart burst, but at the same time, he wanted to lie perfectly still and never move, he wanted the peace and serenity of his brother. All these things he wanted, he swallowed as one might swallow a boulder. The boulder itself was out of sight, but the bulge in the body was visible. The pain was evident on his face, in his eyes, in his trembling hands. All these things he wanted, he tried to hide as he pulled into the parking lot.

He dressed quickly in baggy work clothes and checked in for his next assignment at the county office. In his orange eyes, an unexplainable cold grey fury sparked and twisted and gave him the look of a cruel and desperate man.


	2. Chapter 2

Here's the second chapter. A lot of dialogue; I know it isn't fan fiction, exactly, but it's fun for me. Thanks to both Mint Tea Rose and Verdant Wings!

"You know I'll always be here for you, baby."

"Yeah, yeah. I don't know what you consider 'being here for you', but it ain't the same as my definition!"

"But, baby!"

"I have a name. And it's Lisa!"

"Lisa-"

"No. No! Just leave."

"But I-"

"Just get outta the house."

"Baby! Lisa!"

"Are you gonna do it or do I have to call the cops?"

"Aw, you wouldn't."

"Wouldn't I? Just leave my house. Leave now!"

"Liiiissssaaaa!"

"You don't leave now, I'm gonna go get my phone and call em."

"Aw, come on baby."

She marched into the kitchen and returned with a wireless phone. "Look. Ya gonna watch me dial the number?"

"Alright, alright. Just let me grab my cell phone." he reached behind her and picked it up. "You're gonna regret this, babe. You're gonna come back to me on your hands and knees."

"Yeah, yeah."

"Mark my words."

"I'll mark em right out. Now get outta my house."

He slammed the door behind him.

A young boy padded down the hall is his sock feet and stood looking at the woman. "Why're you fighting?"

"Aw, honey, just go back to your room. That's just something grown-ups do sometimes. Nothing to worry about."

"Is he going to come back?"

"I hope not."

"Good. He was mean to me."

"He was mean to me, too. Now go on back to your room and get some sleep."

"Alright, Lisa." he padded back down the hall as Lisa sank onto the couch, the wireless phone trembling in her hand.

As she rested, she heard a knock on her door. She rose apprehensively, hoping it wasn't him. She latched the door with the chain before she opened it, just in case.

She breathed a sigh of relief when she saw Aron and quickly opened the door. "Come on in, honey."

"Are you trying to keep someone out? It's only eight o'clock."

"I'm just worried for your brother. After that stunt Fere was paid to pull, trying to kidnap him, I've just been on edge, ya know?"

"Sure, sure, Lisa." Aron said consolingly. "Where is my brother?"

"I just sent him to bed."

"Can I see him anyway?"

"Sure! He's not asleep yet, I'm sure of it. Go right down the hall."

Aron walked slowly, thinking. His life was walking down hallways. Did he have any guarantee they were leading to something worthwhile? No, of course he didn't. He found the blue door leading to his brother's room and knocked.

"Hello?"

"Hey Cozmin."

"Aron!" the boy bounced to his feet and ran to end the of the bed to greet him.

"I hear someone here has a birthday next week."

"Yeah!"

"Who could that be?"

"Me!"

"You? Really? Well, how old are you going to be?"

"Ten."

"Ten! Already? Wow! You're getting ancient. We'll have to be getting you a razor to shave your bread before long!"

Cozmin laughed and jumped into his arms. Aron sat down on the bed beside him.

"Is Becky still trying to take me away?" he asked, pulling closer to his brother.

After a pause, Aron bit his lip and replied, "Probably. But don't worry about you. She won't get you. Even if she does, we'll get you back."

"Promise?"

Cozmin was small for his age and many people had commented that he looked more like five than nine. Sitting in Aron's lap, he looked even younger. Aron's heart melted, and he smiled and whispered to him, "Promise."

Cozmin smiled back. "Okay...okay, Aron." After a brief silence, he continued, "What're we going to do for my birthday?"

"What do you want to do?"

"I dunno."

"Well, do you want a party, do you want to go out to eat, do you-"

"I want to go eat. I want to eat at the salad place."

"The salad place." Aron wasn't sure he was talking about.

"Yeah! With the big salad bar and the veggie everythings!"

"The Vegan Palace?" Aron said, disbelieving.

"I want to eat there. Can we eat there Aron?"

"I'm sure. But...maybe not on the actual birthdate, though. I have to work. Do you want to do it before or after?"

"Umm...after."

"Alright."

"Can you make Lisa stop fighting with people? It keeps me awake and makes me scared.

"Sometimes people just have to fight. But I'll mention it to her, okay? Hey, aren't you tired? It's after eight!"

"You're up after eight."

"But I'm a grown-up."

"I'm going to be a grown-up, too. I'm going to be ten! When you write it on graph paper, it takes up just as much space as your number!"

"That's true." Aron admitted with a smile. "Well, I'll just have to see what I can do about that. But in the meantime, you're not ten yet, so you still have to go to sleep now. Okay?"

"Come see me tomorrow?" Cozmin asked, pulling close to Aron once again.

"I have to work late. How about day after tomorrow?"

"Lisa says that never comes."

"She's right, usually. But this one will come."

"Why?"

"Because I say so." Aron jutted his chin to the side dramatically.

"Are you magic, Aron?"

"What do you think?" he asked, returning his chin to its normal position and smiling.

Cozmin giggled as Aron tickled him. He set the boy in his bed and pulled the covers up.

"Love you."

"Yeah. Me, too."

Aron left his door open just a crack, so he 'could get it open real fast if the monsters come', and sank onto the couch beside Lisa. "How's he doing?"

"He's a quiet little boy. I feel so sorry for 'im, havin' a mother like her. You, too. How can you stand her?"

"I can't. I just keep away from her and hope she can't find me. My number's unlisted and she doesn't know where I live anymore. I hope she doesn't know where Cozmin is living, either."

"I can understand why she'd want that adorable little thing, but don't she realize she can't take care of 'im?"

"She doesn't know anything. I don't think the drugs have left her with any mental capacity other than that needed to function physically."

"But it was pretty smart of her to go to Fere."

"Not really. It was very foolish. It was a fleeting thought. She stole my money and paid him, though I can't believe it actually cost her that much. The rest must have gone to drugs."

"Poor thing."

"Cozmin says you're fighting with people."

"I know. Jack Parker keeps hangin' around here. He comes in my house, tellin' me he'll 'always be here for me, baby' and I keep havin' to kick him out. That's the fightin'."

"If it gets too serious, get a restraining order."

"You take care of me, Aron. It's all for yo brother, I know, but ya still take good care of me too."

Aron smiled absently. "I'll see you in two or three days. Cozmin wants to go to the Vegan Place with me for his birthday, I didn't know if you were planning anything."

"Nah, you two go ahead. I'll get him some books and other presents."

"What he really wants is to have his bedtime extended to eight fifteen."

"Well...I guess that can be arranged, too." Lisa smiled as Aron got off the couch and headed for the door.

"See you later."

"Yeah."


	3. Chapter 3

Aron was driving with glazed eyes, following the gentle cures of the paved country road with blissful indifference when his phone rang. He pulled it from his pocket and checked the Caller Identification running across the screen. It showed as the Casa de la Paz. It could be Becky, or it could not be. He took a chance and flipped the phone open.

"Hello?"

"Aron, this is Brasht."

"Oh, hey. I was concerned it might be Becky."

"She isn't allowed here."

"No?"

"No. Listen, do you have Dahn?"

"Do I have Dahn? You mean he's gone?"

"Then you don't have him." Brasht sounded miserable. "Listen, are you in town?"

"No. I'm just a few miles out of town, I can be there in fifteen minutes, okay?"

"That'd be good. See you there."

Aron threw his phone back into the passenger seat pushed the speed limit. He made it into town without incident, but once there, he heard the sirens of the police car and pulled to the side of the road, prepared to take his ticket and lecture without resistance. To his advantage, however, the vehicle's operator was on another mission for the time being and continued past him without slowing down. Breathing a sigh of relief, he pulled back onto the road and continued toward his brother's home at a legally acceptable speed.

"Brasht? What is going on here?"

"Dahn's not in his room. The cameras show that Rojsh entered his room and left alone. We don't know where he is."

Aron sighed, suddenly exhausted. The adrenaline was gone and helplessness and emptiness consumed him.

"I know." Brasht said quietly.

"Do you? Do you really?" he said quietly.

There was a long pause, when Brasht lifted Aron's head in his hands. Finally he whispered, "Yes. I do."

Aron sighed, knowing he was right. "Alright, then. Let's go find him."'

"We've-we've looked everywhere we can think of in the building."

"Let's go back to his room. He's big, he can't just disappear."

They entered the room. A cot and a plastic laundry basket that served as a dresser were the only furniture. A small closet stood open, but Dahn always had the closet open.

"Let's check in here." That was the only possibility. Three empty shelves led up to an empty light socket, so it was hard to see well in the dark closet. In desperation, Aron tested the strength of the shelves and began to climb up.

"You don't think he actually climbed up there!"

"No. But I have to check."

"I understand."

"Can you get me a flashlight? I can't tell if he's up here or not."

"I'll be right back."

Aron hung on the shelves, wondering if his brother was in any one of them. His hands began to ache, but he didn't want to climb down. After what seemed to Aron to be an eternity, Brasht returned and jumped to put the flashlight on the shelf just below Aron's knee.

With difficulty, Aron hooked his hand through the loop on string on the small light and flipped it up, catching it with his fingers. He climbed to the topmost shelf and lay horizontally, thinking. The flashlight was low on batteries, so he almost didn't see the trap door in the ceiling.

"Why is there a trap door here? Do you have an attic?" he called down.

"It's boarded up." Brasht responded.

"The door's not boarded up."

"Isn't it." Brasht said. "Are you going to check there?"

"I have to." The latch on the door looked rusty. Aron reached out as far as he dared and jerked down hard on the latch. It opened easily, and Aron nearly threw himself over the edge of shelf onto the floor below. The flashlight dangled around his wrist, its dark yellow sparking on and off. Aron grabbed two hands on the frame of the trap door and pulled himself up, using the strength he had just recently gained from road work. He sat on the edge of the door, his feet dangling below him. "This flashlight isn't working. Don't you have another one?"

"I think Roger could get me one. Let me find him. I'll be right back." Brasht jogged out of the room.

Aron swept the attic with the sporadic light of the flashlight, not that it would do him any good. Sitting in the dark in a strange place made him edgy, and when he heard the creaking of wood, he trained the flashlight to the sound's source like a gunman of the old West. In the fading light, he saw his brother moving toward him as a cat might. The man held something in his left hand that made Aron nervous. Something that was familiar and utterly horrible. The flashlight grew blindingly bright for a second, and Aron could clearly see the knife in Dahn's hand, its metallic gleam leaving no doubts as to its authenticity or potential for harm. Then the flashlight went completely dead.

"Dahn, I'm your brother. I'm Aron. You know me. Aron. Please stop moving. STOP MOVING!!" The creaking of the floor told Aron that Dahn was drawing nearer. "This isn't a movie, Dahnyil. Please give me the knife. You're going to kill someone. You're going to take a life." Aron hoped it wasn't true, but he knew accidents happened. Paranoia started to take hold. Where was Brasht?

"Dahn, stop it! This is very bad. We just wanted to know where you were. We cared, okay? We care about you. Brasht will be right back, you can hear him talk, we'll be okay. Don't touch me with that knife, Dahn. NO, DAHN!" He felt his brother's sweaty hand take his arm with an unnatural force, and put the cold blade against it. Dahn didn't cut him, just held the blade against the skin.

"Dahn, why do you want to hurt me? WHY?"

The blade moved down his arm to the crook of his elbow.

"Shit." Aron said, and swung forward, feeling the knife slice his arm like butter, his head knock repeatedly on the shelves, and his whole body fall from the attic. The closet had a cement floor, and when Aron's head slammed into it, his vision darkened and all the newly acquired pain floated away.


	4. Chapter 4

Brasht jogged back with a new flashlight. He entered Dahn's room and then the closet, almost stepping on his brother. "Aron?"

Brasht used the flashlight to make a sweep of Aron's body. His head was at such a severe angle that Brasht didn't dare move him. His right arm was bleeding profusely, and one of his legs was impossibly bent under him at the hip. "Koma! Koma, help!"

"Dosh yo find Daun?"

"It's Aron, call the medics!"

"He had Becky's knife." Brasht said, sitting in the chair beside Aron's hospital bed. "How did he get Becky's knife?"

Aron was in no position to ponder the point, so Brasht was talking to himself.

Brasht leaned back in the chair and closed his eyes. Exhaustion took hold, and while he couldn't fall asleep, he couldn't force himself to move even though his neck was aching, his kneecap itching, and his sock falling down.

When he finally opened his eyes, it was daylight. Brasht yawned softly and looked over at his brother. His leg was in a plastic and fiberglass cast, his neck in purple brace, and his arm heavily wrapped. Monitors of various kinds were clamped on the fingers of his left arm, beeping occasionally. An Intravenous feed dripped a blood solution and a respiration aided or controlled (Brasht couldn't tell which) Aron's breathing. Although Aron had fallen less than ten hours ago, Brasht had already accepted it and was still moving forward. "Hey, Aron. I've got to go to work. I'll come back on my lunch break." He left this building with the promise that he would be called if Aron awoke.

He checked into Casa de la Paz and pulled his custodial cart from the closet. Room by room, he visited the residents. "Good morning Lisa."

Lisa smiled at him.

"How are you today?"

"Gah." she said, still smiling hugely. "Ooo?"

"I'm good, too. Did I change your sheets yesterday?"

"Uh."

"All right. Then let's water Arnold."

"Ah-ol!"

"That's right. You hold this sports bottle and we'll take it over there."

Five minutes later, Lisa was in her chair, smiling at Brasht as he left.

"Good morning, Frederick. Aren't your parents coming today?"

"I ope not. I ate em."

"Well, move a second, so I can change your pillowcase."

"Otta ave a fresh one, every day."

"I know it. You can't go without a fresh pillowcase."

"See ya, Asht."

"Later, Frederick."

"Tremone."

"I in bad mood, no touching. No touching things either. Come back later."

"Okay."

"Trying to control self. Trying to use therapy lesson. Come back later."

"You're doing good. See you later, Tremone."

"Rojsh? Are you in here?"

She wasn't, and he had changed her sheets yesterday, so he pulled his cart out of the room and continued down the hallway.

Royland wouldn't have any one in his room before noon, so Brasht continued to the next door. Dahn's.

"Hello, Dahnyil." he said, gravely.

Dahn ignored him. Rosjh was sitting on his radiator, watching the trees outside.

"Hi Brasht."

"Hey Rosjh, what's up?"

"Where's that bugger Aron? He's to see me today."

"He's in the hospital."

"Thot's an awfully horrid place. Why the bloody hell would he go there?"

"Watch your language."

"Me apologies, Sire Brasht."

"He's in the hospital because he fell out of an attic at the top of a closet."

"Top o' a closet! Whot on earth was a brainy lad such as Aron doing at the top o' a closet?"

"Looking for Dahn."

"Did 'e find 'em?"

"He did."

"Why'd he fall?"

"What we think happened is, his flashlight went out, Dahn cut him with the knife, and he jumped to try to save himself."

Rojsh's face went grey. "Dahn cut him with the knife. The knife...Becky's knife."

"Becky's knife."

"Dahn, you cut me brotha with Becky's knife."

Dahn looked up at her impassively.

"Me brotha's in a hospital cause you cut him with Becky's knife." To Brasht's amazement, tears leaked from her eyes. "Becky's knife put me here, Dahn. You con't do thot to Aron. You con't!" She turned to Brasht, sobbing. "Kin we veesit heem?"

"We'll get the release papers filled out now, and we can go if you're willing to miss lunch."

"I'll miss lunch."

Aron opened his eyes and immediately regretted it. The white lights cast a blindingly glaze over his eyes and he shut them tightly. His neck and leg were pulsing with pain of such intensity it brought tears to his eyes. His arm itched and throbbed and he was remotely aware that he couldn't move. "Aahhh." he said, and it was a hoarse horrible sound that called his attention to his need for water.

"Hey, Aron."

It was Brasht, he knew the voice.

"I." he croaked. "Hirsty."

"Okay."

A straw was placed between his lips and he drank, choking on more of the water than he swallowed, but it helped nonetheless. He coughed, and every cough sent waves of pain through his body. Tears flowed from his eyes, but he could not consciously control them.

"Dahnyil cut you?" Rosjh asked.

"I ote know." he whispered, keeping his eyes shut tightly. Rojsh held her hands over him to shade his eyes.

"Do you remember going to the attic to look for him?" Brahst whispered, back in his chair.

"'O."

"Do you remember visiting Cozmin?"

"'Orta." Aron was silent for a while before he whispered, "Vegan Palace."

"Okay." Brasht said, correctly assuming that the restaurant had been in his brother's conversations earlier in the day.

"Becky's knife." Rojsh whispered.

Aron closed his eyes and returned to sleep.

"Becky's knife."

"Rojsh..." Brasht knew what she was talking about. Their earliest memories were of guns and knives, drugs, alcohol, and sex. They had all seen Becky pass out after getting her fix, and going hungry until she was conscious enough to feed them. They grew up quickly. Becky had determined that she should be the one to give them their first high; all her friends and fellow druggies had been incarcerated or killed and she was lonely.

Rosjh had been just fourteen when Becky got her high. They got into a fight shortly afterward and Becky had cut Rojsh's neck with the knife. The amount of blood she lost and the consequent brain damage changed her life forever. She could function in society, if she had someone with her, but when she was sixteen, she was taken from Becky and put into the Casa de la Paz, Now that was familiar, better for her.


End file.
